


How to (Hypothetically) Seduce a Werewolf… Hypothetically

by TheVoiceofWrath (meet_your_fate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Miscommunication, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_your_fate/pseuds/TheVoiceofWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stiles sighs. Might as well get it over with, right? “You guys have some experience in this area so, hypothetically speaking, how might one go about seducing a werewolf?”</i>
</p>
<p>Or, alternately: in which Stiles didn't really <i>need</i> seduction tips in the first place because Derek liked him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to (Hypothetically) Seduce a Werewolf… Hypothetically

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elebridith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elebridith/gifts).
  * Translation into Deutsch available: [How to (Hypothetically) Seduce a Werewolf … Hypothetically](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990719) by [DaintyCrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyCrow/pseuds/DaintyCrow)



> This is set in some nebulous parallel reality where nothing hurts. Happy birthday to the lovely [snowyowlee](http://snowyowlee.tumblr.com/) ♥

"Okay, so…"

"Stiles. Seriously, we have better things to do than watch you flounder. Out with it," Lydia says. Even fed up with Stiles’s crap, she’s beautiful.

Allison seems somewhat more encouraging, smiling a little at him. “Come on, Stiles. You wanted to ask us something?”

Stiles sighs. Might as well get it over with, right? “You guys have some experience in this area so, hypothetically speaking, how might one go about seducing a werewolf?”

Allison blinks at him and Lydia rolls her eyes.

"This is ridiculous," Lydia says.

"Come on, I’m serious! I need your help!"

"Hypothetically," Allison echoes, brow quirked like she can see right through Stiles. Yeah, this whole thing _is_ pretty transparent.

He nods. “Yeah, um. Hypothetically. Please?”

Sighing, Lydia gives him a few pointers. Smell good, but not like artificial scents from soap or perfume. Touch them. Totally platonically, but they’ll catch your scent on their clothes and be reminded of you. Touch their things.

Allison suggests roughhousing. Werewolves apparently like to play.

Stiles isn’t going to be reading too much into that one. Like, wow, he _really_ doesn’t need to hear about Allison and Scott ‘playing’ or whatever when they were dating.

Then Allison says he should sweat. Again, it comes back to the scent thing; apparently having worked up a sweat makes one’s natural smell thicker and stronger and wolves are really into that. Though it doesn’t sound quite sanitary, Stiles can understand it.

Lydia tells him to wear lower cut shirts and to flaunt his neck around. Stiles isn’t sure how confident he is about the attractiveness of his _neck_ but, whatever, he’ll go for it.

After a little while, Allison asks, “Just who are you planning to seduce?”

"It’s obviously Derek," Lydia says. "There aren’t exactly a lot of eligible werewolves around and I doubt Stiles would go for Peter."

Stiles makes a disgusted face over the idea of seducing _Peter_. _Ugh_. “There are no plans. This is an entirely hypothetical scenario.”

They don’t buy it. But they’re smart ladies, so why would they?

♦

Okay, so, Stiles’s attempts at seducing Derek, obviously, are failing horribly. He goes for a run and shows up at Derek’s loft still panting from it, but nope. Nothing. Derek doesn’t even bat an eye over it.

Stiles touches _everything_ he can, gets his scent _everywhere_ he can reach, but Derek never says a word about it.

He wears the only V-neck in his wardrobe around Derek and does everything short of point at his neck and say, _hey look at me_. Derek never even seems to notice.

He tries to play with Derek, but that’s a _spectacular_ failure. Like, wow, it’s absolutely _mortifying_. At least Derek notices if, by ‘notice’, one means that Derek glares at him until he backs away. It’s not like Stiles even does anything _bad_. He just gently socks Derek in the shoulder. Stiles does that to Scott all the time. Whatever, apparently Derek doesn’t appreciate the gesture.

Eventually, Stiles is forced to admit that Derek just… isn’t interested. It happens. Stiles is very much used to it happening. He’s not going to make it weird. Really, isn’t it better that he realizes it now instead of embarking on a years long unrequited crush? It’s definitely better. It’s not like he _really_ thought Derek would be interested…

So he begins the long process of getting over it, which involves a lot of fake cheerfulness and distance and is all around the most painful thing ever.

♦

It’s pouring rain and Stiles’s Jeep has a flat tire.

"Oh, Roscoe, _no_ ,” Stiles groans, thumping his head against the steering wheel. He’s all alone on a dirt road near the outskirts of town, having been just heading out to check the wards along the boundary line when the downpour broke loose. And then the tire blew, like, out of nowhere. “‘When it rains, it pours,’ is supposed to just be an _idiom_ …”

Okay, so, options:

Wait out the storm. No, that won’t do. He was going to check the wards for a _reason_ and that reason is the bad feeling Lydia has had the last couple days.

Get out and change the tire in the pouring rain. That’s… That’s a less than pleasant idea. Last resort, then.

Call someone for a ride to the boundary and deal with the Jeep later. He would, but who? Dad’s working and would just send a deputy and that would be so embarrassing and also a misappropriation of police assets. Stiles has gotten in trouble for that before. Scott’s on shift at Dr. Deaton’s. Lydia wouldn’t come. Not in this rain. Allison is off doing hunter stuff with Mr. Argent. Isaac doesn’t have a car. Derek maybe? No. No, Stiles is better off calling Scott and seeing if Dr. Deaton would let Scott leave for a little bit.

Fine. So he calls Scott.

"Sorry, dude, I’m really busy right now," Scott says. At least he does sound genuinely remorseful, so Stiles can’t hold it against him. "There’s this whole dog situation happening and I can’t leave. Like, the lives of unborn puppies hang in the balance."

Stiles sighs. “Fine. But only because of the unborn puppies, okay? I’ll just change the tire. This is the _worst_ , oh my god.”

"I bet. I could call someone else maybe?" Scott offers.

Stiles shakes his head, never mind that Scott can’t see him. “No, there isn’t anybody who’d come. It’s fine. I’ll just deal with it.”

"I’m sure Derek would come," Scott insists.

"I gotta go, man. No point in putting this off. Talk to you later, man." Stiles ends the call and sets his phone on the passenger seat. He can’t take it out in the rain with him, after all. It takes him a few minutes to psych himself up before opening the door. He pulls his hood up over his head, for all the good it’ll do, and steps out into the rain. "Oh god, that’s cold. Cold Rain, soaking through my pants. Wow. Not awesome…"

He hurries around back to get at the jack and tire iron and the spare. He drops the tire iron on his toes and cries out, cussing up a storm as he grabs his foot and jumps around like an idiot. This is really just not his day, is it?

Of course that’s when the black Camaro pulls up behind him. Of _course_. Derek gets out and scowls at him. “Are you alright?”

"Oh, totally. I’m _swell_ ,” Stiles says. “Just _peachy_. Why are you here?”

"Scott called. He said you needed help."

Seriously, Stiles is going to have _words_ with Scott. “Well, he was wrong. I’m fine. Just changing a flat tire. You can leave.”

Stiles picks up the tire iron and hauls the jack out from under the seat.

"Leave that," Derek says, suddenly so close that Stiles can _feel_ the warmth radiating from Derek’s body. Derek shoves the jack back under the seat and grabs the spare tire. “I’ll just hold the Jeep up and it’ll be quicker.”

"I don’t need your help."

"I’m aware. But I’m already here, so I might as well help anyway," Derek says, going around to the flat. He sets the spare on the road and reaches out for the tire iron. He seems _disgruntled_ really and Stiles has no idea why. He didn’t do anything wrong. He huffs out a long sigh, but passes over the iron.

Derek sets about just doing it all himself, quickly and efficiently. He really does lift the Jeep up, too. That must be handy. Stiles tries not to ogle Derek too much, even if dripping wet _is_ a very good look on Derek…

When Derek is done, he grabs up the ruined tire and goes to put it and the iron away in the back.

"Thanks, I guess," Stiles says as he trails after Derek. "I really could’ve managed, though—"

Derek glares at him as he shuts the hatch. “I _know_ , Stiles. You’re independent and resourceful and you don’t need anybody. Congratulations.”

Okay, now Stiles is getting kind of mad. “Well, that’s a hell of a thing to say as an insult. What’s the matter with you?”

"What’s the _matter_ is that I drove out here to help you and you’ve been nothing but ungrateful the whole time.”

"I _said_ thanks!” Stiles knows he did. It was like five seconds ago; he remembers. “What do you even want from me? No one made you come out here, dude. I didn’t call you.”

"No, you didn’t. You never do anymore unless it’s pack business and you never come over to my place unless you absolutely have to," Derek says, stepping closer to Stiles. It’s an intimidation tactic that hasn’t really worked on Stiles in a long time. Derek hasn’t _tried_ it in a while, either.

Still, Stiles can’t help the beating of his heart. _Shit_. Honestly, he never even though Derek would notice the difference in his behavior… “What, do you miss me or something?”

"Or something. What did I do? Why can’t you stand me all of a sudden? I would’ve thought, if nothing else, that you’d know I’d come help you with car trouble if you called. I’m not a _monster_.”

Stiles has no idea how to handle this situation. He rolls his eyes and heads for the driver’s side door. “Of course you’re not a _monster_. I never said you were, okay? You didn’t do anything.”

Derek follows him. “Then why? Why do I suddenly have the plague?”

"You _don’t_ , oh my _god_. There’s nothing wrong with you,” Stiles insists, spinning to look at Derek. “Do we really need to do this standing in the rain? Seriously?”

"I thought…" Derek trails off, obviously struggling to find the words.

Stiles’s patience is wearing thin. He’s freezing and soaking wet and he just wants to go. “What? What did you think?”

Derek huffs out a hot breath, the air misting in front of him so it makes him look like a snorting bull. “I thought you _liked_ me.”

Stiles feels like he’s been punched right in the bread basket. “Not cool, man. I didn’t—I didn’t know you knew, but it’s not cool to bring that up. It’s actually really shitty. I’m gonna leave now,” he says, opening the door.

But Derek reaches out to shut it again, holding it closed and leaning in close. “Stiles. Stop. Just… Just talk to me.”

"About what?" Stiles asks. "About my stupid crush and how much it sucks that you don’t like me back? Because, thanks, but no thanks. I’ll pass."

Derek’s brows furrow with confusion. “What makes you think I don’t like you back?”

Yeah, Stiles is pretty confused, too. “… Everything? Everything makes me think that. Why would I not think that?”

"Stiles, I keep snacks in my cupboards that literally _only you_ eat. I keep a first aid kit around because _you’re human_. I let you order olives on our pizza, even though olives are an _abomination_. When I come over to your house, I lounge on your _bed_. How, exactly, could you have gotten the idea that I don’t have feelings for you?”

Stiles blinks. “Huh…?”

"And then you started touching me and scenting my things and you came to my den covered in _sweat_. I thought that meant you liked me, but then you stopped. I _hated_ it when you stopped,” Derek says. _Growls_ , really.

"I stopped because you didn’t seem receptive or whatever!"

Derek’s eyes roll in that dramatic way only Hales can manage. “I was, too.”

"Were not! You gave me ‘leave me alone’ signals and I can take a hint, you know?"

Instead of arguing like six year olds, Derek just takes Stiles’s face in his hands and kisses him. Kisses the _daylights_ out of him. Like, _wow_. His hood falls down as Derek backs him up against the cold, wet Jeep. Stiles may or may not _squeak_ over it. The cold, not the kiss. The kiss he likes,  _returns_ it and moans into it. Derek’s mouth tastes like rain water. He slips his freezing hands under Derek’s leather jacket and presses them to soft cotton, over warm, wonderful muscles.

What is even happening right now? Has Stiles died of exposure or something? Is this heaven? He’d have thought Heaven would be slightly warmer…

Derek pulls back to look at him. “How’s that for a signal?”

"Um, well… Pretty irrefutable, I guess? Looking forward to more signals when I don’t have rain running down my butt crack."

Derek smirks a little and nods. “Yeah, that can be arranged. You can come take a hot shower at my place…”

"Wards. I’m supposed to check the wards."

"Well, let’s go then. We can shower afterward."

♦

When everyone finds out Stiles and Derek are _together_ together, they’re not very surprised at all. Turns out there’s a betting pool. Seriously. A _betting pool_. Why does no one tell him these things? Scott pouts because he lost by a _day_ and Lydia oh so smugly collects her winnings. Turns out there was no bad feeling and she just said there was to get him off on his own in shitty weather for a potential white knight scenario.

Lydia is scary clever.

"No fair," Isaac says. "You had inside information."

"Whoops," Lydia says with absolutely zero sincerity, counting bills with a perky smile.

Stiles is more amused than annoyed. “Really, I should get a cut of that.”

Lydia shakes her head. “Nope.”

Well, it was worth a shot, right?

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [tumblr](http://thevoiceofwrath.tumblr.com) , let's be bros ♥


End file.
